The Day Jane Put a Lock on the Bedroom Door
by notsure2010
Summary: Rizzles one-shot.  I didn't like what I saw in a scene from one of the new promo videos, so I decided to write my way around it.  Just a bit of fluff.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing_

The Day Jane Put a Lock on the Bedroom Door

Somehow, Jane didn't hear her mother until it was too late.

It had been quite awhile since she had awakened with a man in her bed, and she was preoccupied with the awkwardness of trying to make small talk while she waited for Casey to get dressed and get out of her bedroom. In the bright of day she was suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that she was only wearing a tank top and underwear, she didn't want to get out of bed in front of him. She wondered if she was being rude by not offering him breakfast but decided she could play the I'm-still-recuperating-from-shooting-myself-in-the-gut card and ask him to grab whatever he wanted from the fridge and let himself out.

But before Jane could open her mouth, Angela opened the bedroom door carrying an armful of laundry and muttering to herself about her slovenly daughter. Snatching clothes off of the end of the bed, she straightened up to see Jane cowering under a sheet with a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face. Then she saw _him_.

"Hey, Mrs. Rizzoli."

"Hello, Charles." Angela's use of Casey's given name and the tone of her voice left no room for doubt—she didn't like the smirk on his face, and she didn't like the fact that he had clearly just spent the night in her daughter's bed.

Jane silently pleaded with her mother—her eyes betrayed her utter panic at being caught in such a situation.

Angela set her jaw and threw the pile of laundry in Jane's face.

"Ma! What the hell?" Jane stared at her mother, as panic turned to fury.

Angela said nothing, just crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared right back.

Casey made a hasty exit. "Um, well, I'll call you later, Jane?" He mouthed the word 'sorry' on his way out the door, but Jane didn't even notice as the staring contest with her mother continued.

When they heard the front door shut, the fireworks began.

"Jane Rizzoli! Are you telling me that you're still in too much pain to do your own laundry, but you can . . . you can _sleep_ with Casey Jones?"

"I never asked you to come over and do my laundry!" Jane shouted, dodging more articles of clothing that her mother continued to throw at her.

"What do you expect me to do, Jane? I can't let my daughter live in a pigsty—"

"I'm a grown woman! I can live in a pigsty if I want! Now will you just _get out_ of my bedroom? _Please_?" Jane's face was crimson with anger and her voice was hoarse. The only thing stopping her from physically throwing her mother out of the apartment was the fact that she was still wearing only underwear.

Angela just continued on as if she hadn't even heard Jane tell her to get out. "But you know, Jane, it really isn't about the laundry, or your total lack of appreciation for the things your mother does for you—"

"Well, what is it about then?" Jane raised her arms in a gesture of mock surrender. "You're always trying to set me up with guys—you'd think you'd be _happy_ I spent the night with someone."

Angela looked indignant. "I haven't tried to set you up with _anyone_ since you and Dr. Isles have been together. I would never do that! And I can't believe you would—you would _cheat_ on her like this!"

Jane's eyes went wide. She stared at her mother, covering her mouth and nose with both hands. This time, Angela didn't return her stare; she just started picking up laundry again.

"Ma. What the _hell_ are you talking about." Speaking through clenched teeth, Jane's voice was a low growl.

"Jane, don't be embarrassed—"

"I'm not _embarrassed_, ma, I just want to know what you think is going on between me and Maura." Jane fought to keep her voice steady, but her words came out sounding strangled.

"You know, you're—together. Like, a couple. It's fine with me, I don't mind, really—"

Jane ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her eyes. "Maura and I are not _together_. We are not a _couple_."

"You aren't? I mean, I saw—I saw her _kiss_ you, in the hospital. More than once, Jane." Angela looked her daughter in the eye and raised her eyebrows, and then glanced away again.

Jane was silent for a few long moments as her anger dissipated. Without looking up, she said quietly, "Just because we kissed doesn't mean we're a couple." Jane picked at a spot on the sheet that still covered the lower half of her body, refusing to meet her mother's eyes.

"Oh." Angela sat on the end of the bed, next to the pile of laundry she had just made. "What are you then?"

"We're—just friends. Like we've always been. Really, good friends."

Angela sighed, disappointed. "But you two are so sweet together."

Jane grimaced. "Gross, ma. Don't get all sappy on me."

"Well, I still don't think Maura would be too happy to know that Casey spent the night here, even if you aren't a couple."

Jane felt her anger rising again. "It's none of her business, and it's none of your business if it is her business! Or—whatever!" Jane shook her head and groaned. "And now I'm not making any sense, so just give it a rest, okay? Will you _please_ just leave me alone now, so I can take a shower and try to forget that my mother just walked in on me in bed with a guy?" Jane rolled her eyes and exhaled heavily as Angela stood up.

"Fine. But you can do your own laundry." Angela walked out the door, shutting it behind her but then immediately opening it again. "Just so you know, Maura is much more attractive than Casey." Angela frowned and wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a fan of the fatigues. I mean it's one thing if you're actually _in_ combat but—"

Jane's eyes widened again and she looked as though she might burst a blood vessel. "Ma, I swear if you don't get out right this second—"

The door closed again and Jane flopped back on the bed, covering her face with her hands. She lay there silently staring at the ceiling for several minutes before pulling up the sheet to her chin and rolling over onto her good side and closing her eyes, completely overwhelmed by the desire to stay in bed for the rest of the day.

She wasn't surprised to hear the bedroom door squeak open again. She didn't bother to look up, or even open her eyes. She just growled, "Ma. Get. Out."

"Jane, it's me." Maura's voice was quiet, but Jane's eyes snapped open. She glanced briefly at the doctor before burying her head back into the pillow.

"Go away, I'm asleep."

Maura didn't say anything, just kicked off her heels and walked over to the bed. Jane automatically scooted over to give Maura space, but she stayed on her side, facing away from the doctor who adjusted herself into a reclining position, hands clasped in front of her.

"I ran into your mother outside. She seems inordinately upset about the laundry situation."

Jane grunted.

"You really have let the housekeeping go, Jane. I could call a service for you if you'd like."

Jane sighed. "No, Maura. I'll clean my own apartment, thank you very much."

"Well, is there something else going on? Your mother said, and I quote, 'You're a saint to put up with her. You're the only one she listens to so try to talk some sense into her.'"

"She's insane. I'm going to have her committed."

"What exactly is it that she wants me to tell you?"

"Nothing. Let's just drop it. I'm going back to sleep now."

"Does it have something to do with the fact that a jacket belonging to Casey Jones is hanging on one of your kitchen chairs?"

"Shit."

"I believe I can smell his cologne too." Maura suddenly drew in a quick breath. "Did your mother walk in on you and him—"

Jane groaned and pulled the sheet over her head.

Maura laughed gently. "That must have been—wow. Embarrassing. For you and for him."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Maura waited.

Jane came out from under the sheet and rolled over onto her back. "I mean, she thinks she can just waltz in here anytime she wants—what does she expect?"

"What did she do when she saw the two of you?"

"She threw a pile of laundry at us."

Maura laughed again.

"It's not funny, Maura."

"No, it's not." Maura cleared her throat, smirking. "Why would she be angry, anyway? She tries to set you up with guys all the time doesn't she? She can't expect that you wouldn't bring someone home from time to time."

"I know!" exclaimed Jane, "that's what I said! But then she said wasn't really mad about _him_, she was mad about—"

Jane stopped mid-sentence. Maura looked at her expectantly.

"She was mad about what?"

"Never mind. She's crazy."

"No, what was she mad about? Why don't you want to tell me?"

Jane sighed and rubbed her eyes. "She thinks I was cheating—on you," she mumbled, looking away.

"Oh." Maura she chewed her lip and lowered her eyes, the comedy of the situation instantly gone. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her the truth—that we weren't a couple. That we _aren't_ a couple. She seemed disappointed—even said we were sweet together." Jane rolled her eyes.

"Huh. That's rather surprising."

Both women sat in silence until Jane, picking at a thread on the sheet again, asked, "are you mad?"

"Mad that your mother guessed there was something going on between us? No."

"No, Maura," groaned Jane, "are you mad about me and Casey?"

The doctor paused, carefully considering her answer. "Mad? I don't think so."

"Oh. Good." Jane sunk down a little further between the sheets.

"I'm not mad," Maura repeated after another long pause, "I _am_ a little jealous, though."

Jane's head snapped back as she looked at her friend in surprise. "Jealous? This is you when you're jealous?" She gestured toward the obviously calm and collected woman reclining beside her.

"You didn't see me last night." Maura looked away, twisting the ring on her finger.

"Last night?" Jane turned onto her side, wincing a bit at the pain from her wound.

"I drove over last night after work, and I saw Casey's car out front. I connected the dots."

"And you were mad then?"

Maura looked genuinely puzzled. "I just don't think 'mad' is the right word—jealous, frustrated, confused—"

"Maura!"

"Okay." The doctor sighed. "Let's just say your mother isn't the only one who's been throwing things."

Jane grinned, and a low laugh escaped her throat. "Did you break anything expensive?"

Maura narrowed her eyes. "Never mind." She chuckled too, and smoothed her skirt with both hands.

"Well, if you were mad then, how do you feel now?" Jane looked up expectantly.

"Jane, I—I feel a lot of things. But I don't have the right to feel _anything_, really. I was the one who said we should cool things down, see other people. I have no right to tell you who to date, or who to sleep with—"

"I didn't sleep with him, Maura."

"What?" Maura's voice squeaked. "But, he was here—your mother—"

Jane rolled back over onto her back. "He came over last night, and we both had a couple of beers, and before I knew it we were kissing—"

Maura held up her hand. "I don't think I need the details, Jane."

Smirking, Jane continued. "Well, one thing led to another and we came in here, but then I told him I was worried about the pain and wanted to stop. He was very nice about it, and we just fell asleep here."

With a concerned look on her face, Maura turned onto her side and slid down the bed a bit. "You shouldn't be having that much pain—if you were, you should have told me! There could be an infection—"

"Maura." Jane mirrored Maura's movements so that the two women were lying face to face. Slowly, she reached out and touched Maura's face. "I lied to him. I wasn't in any pain."

"Oh." Maura looked down, biting her lip. "Why did you lie to him?"

"Because guys don't usually like it when you tell them that you can't stop thinking about your best friend when they're kissing you." Jane continued to stroke Maura's cheek, speaking in a voice so low it could hardly be heard. "All I could think about was _you_, Maura. Kissing _you_. Touching _you_. I wanted to fall asleep in _your_ arms, not his."

Maura looked into Jane's deep brown eyes, and then none-too-gently gripped the back of the detective's neck and pulled her into a frenzied, breath-stopping kiss, a fierce battle of lips and tongues.

"Did he kiss you like that, Jane?" Maura pulled away, breathing heavily.

Jane shook her head vigorously. "No. God, no."

"I want to be the only one to kiss you like that." Maura leaned in, capturing Jane's mouth again, biting, sucking, bruising. Jane responded with equal intensity.

Finally breaking away, Maura panted, "I realized something last night, Jane—I can't stand the thought of you with anyone else. You're _mine_."

"I am, Maura. I always have been." Jane smiled, and Maura felt dizzy.

"So no more Casey?"

"No more Casey. Or anyone else."

Maura leaned in for another kiss, this time slowly and gently exploring her detective's mouth with her own.

Once again, Jane didn't hear her mother until it was too late.

The bedroom door opened, and Angela stopped short when she saw the two women in front of her. When they froze, staring back at her, she grinned and said lightly, "Oh, hello Dr. Isles!"

"Hello, Mrs. Rizzoli."

"Oh please, call me Angela!"

"Of course, Angela. I hope you'll call me Maura as well."

Angela beamed.

"Ma, did you need something?" Jane said, exasperated.

"Oh! Never mind, it's not important." Angela backed out of the room. "Have a good day, girls!" She closed the door behind her.

Maura and Jane looked at each other shyly before collapsing into giggles.

"At least she didn't throw laundry at us," said Jane.

"Very true. She seems—happy, doesn't she."

"Yeah, she does." Jane smiled contentedly.

"But Jane?"

"Hmm?"

"We are putting a lock on the bedroom door. Today."

"Oh yeah, we are. Right after some more kissing."

Maura giggled her compliance.


End file.
